


Spinning Yarns

by Jubalii



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series, Layton Kyouju vs Gyakuten Saiban | Professor Layton vs. Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Fairy Tale Retellings, Gen, Implied narumayo, implied barnlaw, telling shit fairytale au fanfictions to each other, they're all just bored and drunk basically, this is a cheap excuse for me to write mushy fairy stories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 03:49:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12975237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jubalii/pseuds/Jubalii
Summary: On a stormy night at Rouge's tavern, everyone decides to tell their favorite fairy tales to each other.





	1. Prologue

“Three cheers for Mega Burger!” Everyone’s mouths were too full to cheer, but that didn’t deter Kurain village’s burger expert from leading it herself. “Yeah! All hail Mega Burger, king of the burger meal!”

  “And the murderer of my bank account,” sighed Phoenix, pushing a piece of lettuce in circles around his plate. “I never expected them to charge so much for a couple of burgers around here.” A distant roll of thunder seemed to pity him, echoing across the ocean. The rain increased to a dull roar, pounding on the glass windows and _tap-tapping_ against a pot set beneath a leak. Despite the tempest outside, Rouge’s tavern was warm and cozy, the candles on the creaking chandelier casting a friendly glow on the small party beneath.

Sent packing back to London on yet another legal exchange (Maya helpfully suggested that the League of Attorneys was trying to get rid of him), he’d taken the initiative to contact the Professor and Luke ahead of time. A trip to Labyrinthia was scheduled, with Maya talking his ear off about how thrilled she was to see everyone, how they should race to see who could swim Eve’s lake the fastest, how she hoped to pack her robes full of bread to take home. Even after he threatened to shut her in the witch apparatus and drop her into the (fireless, of course) death pit, she only grew more excited and begged him to _promise_ that he would, since “it was too scary last time to really get a _feel_ for the ride.”  

  “You should really try it too, Nick. Then you’ll know what it feels like to be a witch; you’ll be a cinch for the next Bezella pageant.”

  So here they were, with his wallet empty and Maya carrying gifts of Mega Burger meal deals for everyone, as well as extra burgers because “you can’t eat just one!” And to her credit, he had found himself reaching for a second helping. There was plenty to go around, seeing as it was a semi-private party, with Rouge closing shop early so that they could have a place to sit down and enjoy each other’s company.

Mrs. Eclaire and the Storyteller were there, taking up the end of the bar with her oven mitts stacked neatly next to her plate. He was to Mr. Cantabella’s left, Maya to _his_ left, with Luke and the Professor sharing the corner. The far side of the bar, shorter as it met with the wall, held Eve with Espella to her right and Sir Barnham to her left, both inhaling burgers at a speed to rival Maya’s. Stuck in the middle, she seemed to pointedly ignore them both as she spoke quietly to Layton. And Rouge was behind the counter, making sure everyone’s chalices were filled to the brim.

“I’ve never had wine and burgers,” Maya noted. “I like soda better, but this is pretty good too.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Luke admitted, looking dolefully at the imported water in his own chalice.

“This must be how the rich live!” she decided, clapping her hands together. “Nick, let’s start buying bottles of wine with our burgers from now on!”

“Let’s _not_.”

“Oh, cheer up!” Maya slugged him, nearly knocking him off his barstool. “Edgeworth always says there’s no price to fine for a meal with good wine!”

“And when Edgeworth starts paying for your meals, you can have all the wine you want.” Rouge pushed him the bottle with a silent smirk, eyeing the two of them as they argued.

“Well, if you’d just gone along with my original plan, you wouldn’t have had to pay extra for London burgers.”

“You can _not_ smuggle a crate of Mega burgers across international borders!” He gazed wearily at Rouge’s wine bottle before draining his chalice and refilling it. If he had to argue international law with his assistant, then he ought to at least have a good buzz going first.

“Only because you didn’t let me _try_.”

“I believe, Mr. Wright, that Ms. Fey could do just about anything she sets her mind to.”  Professor Layton politely dabbed at his mouth with the napkin on his lap, balancing everything efficiently on his own barstool and managing to avoid the mess splattered his way from Espella and Barnham, who were fighting over a packet of mustard until Mrs. Eclaire glared at them across the bar.

“Yes, but somehow _I’m_ always the one stuck with the consequences.” Phoenix sagged in his seat, sloshing the wine in the chalice before taking a big gulp. “You’d see my mug shot on the front page of the Times.”

“I bet you’d take a good mug shot, Nick.”

“Don’t say that!” Rouge looked at them once more before laughing, rolling her shoulders as she shook her head.

“You know, that reminds me of an old fairy story I heard when I was young. It was about a boy who was always lucky—they said he was like a cat, always landing on his feet no matter how hard he fell.” Mr. Cantabella perked up in his seat, rubbing at his chin.

“I know that story.” He took a bite of his burger, chewing carefully before he spoke. “Lucky Hans.”

“That’s the one.” Espella stared at her expectantly, but when the bartender didn’t say anything more she huffed.

“Well? Aren’t you going to tell us how it goes?” Rouge arched a brow before waving her hand dismissively, ring glinting in the light.

“No way. I’m not a big storyteller; besides, it’s just kid’s stuff. A babe’s tale.”

“Oh, come on!”

“Yeah!” Luke chimed in. “Please, Ms. Rouge? Just the one?”

“Aye, you shouldn’t have opened your mouth if you weren’t going to say anything else,” Barnham pointed out.

“You shut _your_ mouth, Zacky, or I’ll tell one of your stories instead.”

“Ha! Go ahead, they already know about the Wild Ride; ‘tis nothing worse than _that_.”

“How about the time you got so tuckered you crafted a tune to serenade your _lady love_ with? I think I still have the lyrics written down somewhere—”

“Y-you wouldn’t _dare_!”

“Try me!”

“Alright now,” Mrs. Eclaire said in a no-nonsense tone as the two redheads made to square off and fight. “She doesn’t have to tell the story if she doesn’t want to.”

“Oh, but it’d be so fun!” Espella sighed, her hands clasped pleadingly. “We could all tell our favorite fairytales while we wait for the storm to pass.”

“It’s not like we have anything better to do,” Maya pointed out. “And I know a really _good_ story.”

“I can think of one or two!” Luke adjusted his hat with a boyish grin. “I’m a really good storyteller!”

“It’s true that telling tales around the fire is a time-honored tradition,” the Professor mused. “The first fairytales were just oral stories repeated and passed from generation to generation.”

“Well, I don’t know….” Rouge wrinkled her nose, tugging absently at one of her pigtails. “But if everyone else is game, I don’t see why I should be the odd one out.”

“Then it’s settled!” Maya slammed her fist onto the bar, upsetting Phoenix’s wine. He quickly put it back to rights, dabbing a wadded napkin at the stained edge of his sleeve with a frown. “Rouge, you go first! Tell us about Lucky Hans!”

 “Well, how about this….” Rouge still looked hesitant, but obligingly leaned against the bar with her chin on her fist. “Let me tell you about Lucky Maya Fey….”


	2. Rouge's Tale

0-0-0-0

Rouge’s Tale: Lucky Maya

0-0-0-0

 

            There are people in this life with no luck at all, and there are people who, like a cat, will land on their feet no matter how fast or how hard they fall. Those people are born into good luck, where all their geese are swans; all that falls to them is profit, not loss. The world may not think of them the same way they think of themselves, but what care have they for the world?

            Maya Fey was one of those people, called ‘Maya in Luck’ by those who knew her. For seven long years she worked with a hardy, yet luckless defender; at the end of those years she said to him:

            “My time is up now; I’m going to go home and see my poor moth—what? Oh, fine—my poor _sister_ once more, so pray pay me my wages and let me go.”

            “I don’t have much to give,” said the defender, “but you’ve been a fine worker and so you can have these three gold coins. Who knows? By your so-called luck, you may end up a rich woman by the time you get to your sister’s house.”

            And so she started off, plodding lazily on foot with the three gold coins tight in her fist. By the by, she passed a lowly pageboy, trotting gaily along on a capital horse that had once belonged to his master. 

            “Ah!” said Maya aloud, “How cool it is to ride on a horse!—yes, that _is_ how you sound—that guy gets to go along easy-peasy, never worrying about tripping over stones and his feet never get tired, even if his ass—yes, she would too say that! Who’s telling this story?—even if his _ass_ does.” And, as Maya wasn’t at all quiet, the pageboy overheard her.

            “So, say you like to ride on a horse? Why do you go on foot then, friend?”

            “Well,” Maya replied, “I only have these coins.”

            “What do you say of making an exchange?” the pageboy asked, sensing a potential deal. “My horse and saddle for your three gold coins. It’ll save you a great deal of trouble, having to carry them in your hand the whole way.”

            “Thanks a bunch!” said Maya, “But since you’re being so nice to me, I should let you in on teensy thing—it’s going to be a long way for _you_ to go without a horse!”

            “You leave that to me,” the pageboy said, and got off his horse, helped Maya onto it, and took his gold in hand. “Here’s his whip and bridle. If you want him to go fast, just smack your lips together and cry ‘Go!’.” He waved her off before turning to continue on his merry way, just as gaily on foot as he ever was on the horse and three coins richer besides.

            Maya was delighted as she sat on the horse, drew herself up, squared her elbows like she’d seen the pageboy do, turned out her toes and rode off, one minute whistling a tune and the next singing a happy little song to herself. “What a lucky girl I am,” she thought, “to get rid of those coins for something as cool as this horse!”

            Presently, as she continued her journey, she thought she might like to go a little faster and so kicked her heels, smacking her lips with a loud ‘ _Go_!’ The horse went into full gallop and before she knew it, she was head over heels in the mud. The horse would have run off, had a shepherdess leading a cow not managed to stop it before it bolted.

            “Ugh!” she said as she pulled herself from the mud, sorely vexed at the animal. “Riding a horse isn’t all it’s cracked up to be!” She turned to the shepherdess, wringing the wetness from her skirts. “When a girl gets up on a horse and it does her like that, she’s lucky not to break her neck! I’m not getting back on that thing again!”

            “Unlucky for you,” said the shepherdess, mildly amused by the woman in front of her. “In any case.”

            “In any case,” repeated Maya, “I like your cow more. Cows are nice, and you can get milk and butter from them. Really good food every day!” Her mouth watered just thinking about all that good milk and the butter on her bread every morning. “What I wouldn’t give to have a cow like that!”

            “Well,” said the shepherdess, “if you’re so fond of her, I’ll change my cow for your horse. I like to do good by people, even though I lose by it myself.”

            “Done and done!” Maya clapped her hands together happily. “What a kind heart you have!” Then the shepherdess jumped upon the horse, handed her the cow’s lead, and rode away, wishing her a good morning over her shoulder. Maya wiped her face, rested awhile, and stared at the cow. “If I can just get a piece of bread—and I’ll always be able to get one of those, I think—I’ll never be hungry or thirsty, so long as I have this cow with me.”

            So, after she’d rested, Lucky Maya took up the cow’s lead and dragged it behind her as the sun climbed in the sky and the air grew hotter. Presently it grew so hot that Maya was sweating fiercely, and the cow no longer wanted to be led this way and that. They came across a heath that would take more than an hour to cross, and both woman and cow collapsed to the ground with heavy sighs.

            _“My,_ ” Maya shook her head, “we’ve still got a long way to go, and it’s only midday.” She swallowed, but her mouth was dry and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. “I know, I’ll get a drink of milk and regain my strength, so I can make it to my sister’s before nightfall.” She turned to the cow, pushing and prodding until the sweat ran down her face; finally, the cow stood up and let her underneath it to milk. She tied the lead to the stump of an old tree, and began to milk.

Alas, the cow was as dry as a bone.

“I didn’t think to check the cow before trading for it!” Maya cried, still trying in vain for at least one drop of milk. She was managing the matter very clumsily, having never tried to milk before, and after a while the cow began to think her very troublesome, and rid herself of the girl with a well-placed kick. Maya tumbled back until her shoes were above her head, staring dumbly at the sky before climbing to her feet and dusting off her skirt with a scowl. “How do you like that?!”

About that time, a butcher came waddling along with a pig in a wheelbarrow, both of them alike in the roundness of their face.

“What’s the matter with you, good maiden?” the butcher asked in concern, looking at her stained clothing and mussed hair. Maya told him what happened, and how she was thirsty, and the cow was just as dry as she. Then the butcher gave her some water from his flask, saying to her:

“My, what an unfortunate circumstance, young lady! Your cow will give you no milk; don’t you see she is an old beast, good for nothing but the slaughterhouse?”

“How can you say that?!” Maya said, petting the poor cow. “She _is_ old, and she _is_ dry, but I’m sure the cow is worth more than that.”

“Aye, in her skin and a good slab of beef meat,” said the butcher. Maya thought for a moment—she liked beef, but didn’t know how to prepare it herself. She doubted her sister knew how to make burgers from a raw slab of beef, either. But a pig… she eyed the pig enviously. With a pig, it wasn’t at all hard to make ham, or sausages, or bacon… ooh, bacon…. Her mouth watered so much that she no longer had need for a drink.

“Then would you think about trading your pig for my cow?” she asked sweetly. “You can sell her skin and beef, if you want to. I’d be far happier with a pig, anyway.”

“Well, I don’t like to say no, especially not to a pretty young lady as yourself,” the butcher answered. “If it’s to please you, I’ll make the change and gladly.” So Maya the Lucky found herself with a pig, the butcher bidding her good day as he led the cow off.

“So, now I’ve got a pig.” There was a lead tied to its leg, and she took it and continued on home, across the large heath with the pig waddling behind her. All seemed to go right for her now—surely she had met with some misfortunes on the road, but who would have guessed that through it all, her luck would have held out? How could it be otherwise, when she had such a lovely, fat pig as her traveling companion?

The next person she came across was a goose-girl, carrying a fine white goose under her arm. The goose-girl stopped to ask what was o’clock, and they struck up a small chat under the shade of an old oak tree. Maya told of her luck, of the three gold coins that led to the horse, that led to the cow, that led to the pig. The goose-girl listened with growing awe, her eyebrows rising until they might have flown off to heaven, had they not been so bushy.  

“Well!” Said she, when Maya had finished her tale. “My story is not so long-winded, I’m afraid. I’m taking this goose with me, as a birthday gift for my newborn nephew. See how heavy it is, and at only eight weeks old! They’ll get a good deal of roast meat and fat off of _this_ goose, they will.”

“You’re right,” said Maya, as the goose was almost too heavy for her to hold. “But I think my pig’s a little fatter than your goose.” The goose-girl frowned, and then leaned in to whisper near the lucky woman’s ear.

“To tell truth, miss, I did hear of something, but I thought you were too good a maiden to have any dealings with—well, I’ll out and say it. Your pig may get you thrown into the dungeons before the day is through.”

“You don’t say!” Maya grew pale, feeling her luck leave her. “What do you mean by that?”

“In the village I just came from, a squire had a pig stolen out of his sty. Now, I was dreadfully afraid when I saw you, that _you_ had the squire’s pig! If you have, and they catch you… ah! The least they will do is throw you into the horse pond. Can you swim, with those odd shoes of yours?”

“Well, I don’t want to get wet!” Maya sighed, looking down at the pig. “What am I gonna do with you now? I don’t know where this pig came from. I just traded a man my cow for it. I don’t know if it’s the squire’s pig.”

“Listen, friend; I know this country better than you. Give me the pig, and I’ll let you have my goose. That way, you won’t get in any trouble if you come across the constable on the way to your sister’s house.”

“Would you!?” cried Maya. “Oh, thank you! Thank you!” So they changed hands yet again, the goose-girl taking the pig’s lead while Maya carrying the goose in both arms. “I’ll never be able to repay you!”

“Never mind that,” the goose-girl laughed. “Just get home with you now!” And she drove the pig down a side path.

“Well, I’m sorry to see the pig go,” Maya said, puffing and huffing as she carried the heavy goose. “He was a good pig, all things said, and if he was stolen… well, there’s nothing I can do about that. But I’m the winner here, since this goose will make a delicious supper. And the feathers can go towards a pillow.” As she walked, she grew happier still. “What’s a pig when you have a goose? How happy my sister will be!”

So she came to the last village on her journey, and saw a grinder working hard at his whetstone, whistling a tune. Maya stopped to rest her back, holding the goose firmly between her legs as she watched the grinder. After some time, she got his attention and said:

“Well, aren’t you a happy camper? You must really love your job.”

“Yes, mine’s a good trade and there’s gold in my pocket whenever my hand looks for it. But, young lady, where did you buy such a beautiful goose, and for how much?”

“I didn’t buy,” Maya answered truthfully. “I traded my pig for it.”

“And the pig?”

“I traded my cow.”

“And the cow?”

“I traded my horse.”

“And… the horse?”

“I traded three gold coins a defender had given me, as payment for my work.”

“So you’ve been a diligent woman, and made your way in the world well enough on your own. But if you could just make your fortune, you’d be a fine lady indeed.” Maya was curious enough to answer him.

“And how’s that?”

“By being a grinder, like me.” He picked up a common stone where he sat. “Now, this spare stone of mine is worth that goose, I do think. Work well enough with it, and you can make a nail cut as well as a sword. You’ll have your fortune made within the year.”

“Well!” said Maya. “How can I refuse such a kind bargain?” And so the goose was left with the grinder, and she went along her way carrying the heavy stone on her head. “How kind people are!” she said as she went along. “They act like it’s a favor to them that they’re making me into a rich lady! I haven’t gone anywhere where I haven’t found a good bargain yet!”

In the meantime, however, she grew tired and hungry. The stone was heavy. At last she could go no farther, and sat beside a river to get a drink of water. She laid the stone carefully by the bank side, but had no more stuck her head in the river when the stone rolled into the water and was lost in the depths.

For a while she watched it sinking in the clear, deep water, and then sprang up with a sound of joy. She danced around, cheering her good luck.

“Oh boy! This river took care of everything, and now I don’t have to carry that heavy stone anymore!” She skipped all the way home, singing, “There never was any girl in the whole world as lucky as me!”

And when she came to her sister’s house, she told her how very easy the road to good luck was.

* * *

 

“Stop laughing!” The real Maya puffed out her cheeks, stomping the ground as he nearly fell off the chair. Everyone else was laughing as well, from Mrs. Eclaire wiping the tears from her red face to Sir Barnham choking on a burger, Eve and Espella having to pound him in turns until he could breathe calmly again. “I’m not that stupid! Even I know none of those were good bargains! I don’t act like that!”

“You do!” he crowed, tears threatening to leave his eyes as well. “I can see you doing just that, and coming back to the office to tell me how you sold Edgeworth’s car for a Mega Burger coupon and _still_ came home empty-handed!”

“I would not! Nick, stop laughing! I know a good bargain when I see one!”

“Ha!”

“ _Stop it_!” She hopped onto the table nearest them, which at least had the intended effect. He cleared his throat, trying to get his normal voice back without bursting into another round of chuckles at her expense.

“Maya, get off the table.”

“No!” She held out her hands, commanding the room’s attention. “Listen up, everyone; it’s _my_ turn to tell a story. It’s also a fairytale about a goose, but this one is better.”

“Do tell.” Rouge leaned against the counter, stealing the wine bottle back and drinking directly from it. “What’s it called?”

“It’s called: The Defense Attorney and the Golden Goose.”

“That’s _not_ a real fairytale!”

“Shut up, Nick."


End file.
